


everything you want's a dream away

by aetherae



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, NOT EVEN THE FACT THAT I CAN'T COMPLETE IT IN TIME, NOTHING WILL STOP ME FROM MAKING BDAY FIC FOR MY FRIENDS!!, Post-Canon, i really should've canon reviewed for this better but oh well, i swear this won't be an abandoned wip, lies down why am i like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 23:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11678961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aetherae/pseuds/aetherae
Summary: Both of them have their own lives to live, their own goals and dreams, but that doesn't mean they can't intersect.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Misty_Reeyus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misty_Reeyus/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIST!!!! once again i'm so sorry that this.... isn't even actually finished cries, why do i always underestimate how fics will go. regardless i hope you enjoy what i have rn and look forward to the rest of it to come!! I LOVE YOU MIST I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT BIRTHDAY.
> 
> but as for the fic itself--i've always wanted to do a 5 times x+1 time y formatted fic, i just never really had good ideas for it or no inspiration. now i finally do, so i present: 5 times rokurou says goodbye to eleanor + 1 time he says hello. set post-canon so be ready for spoilers.

It’s late afternoon and the two of them should’ve gotten up hours ago by now, but Rokurou’s a smart enough man to recognize a rare opportunity when it presents itself. He hardly sees Eleanor as it is, and it’s even rarer for him to catch her sleeping peacefully these days.

The last time he ran into her, she’d had her brows drawn together as she fretted over how to resupply a still-recovering village in the middle of the mountains. Just yesterday, he found her with her teeth bared and spear in hand while she fought off a hoard of daemons. With her hair pulled back and Abbey uniform still a pristine white and blue, it’s easy to see why the people have taken to calling her the “Second Shepherd.” She’s thrown herself into helping them more than just about anyone else, after all. Her work is never done, and they love her for it.

Those same people would probably be horrified to know their beloved Second Shepherd lets her hair down and sheds away her uniform to lie with a daemon, but he can’t say he cares either way.

He likes her in battle, eyes alive and hands gripping her spear with an assured determination, but he likes her like this, too, with nothing to knit her brows together in worry and her hair falling freely across her face. Still snuggled cozily under the sheets, just looking at her makes him feel drowsy. Her bangs stray towards her nose, feather-light and tickling, and he laughs as she scrunches her nose even in sleep. He brushes her bangs back, watching as her face instantly smoothes out. 

Rokurou has never longed for the quiet. He revels in the thrill of battle, the onslaught of chaos and frenzy. With Eleanor though, he thinks he likes the quiet.

“Mmm,” she groans, sleepily blinking her eyes up at him. “Rokurou…? What time is it?”

“Dunno. Probably sometime past noon.”

She yawns loudly, not even bothering to cover her mouth. “Past noon, huh…”

He counts down in his head as she settles back into her pillow. Three, two, one—

And then she flies up out of the sheets, practically launching herself out of bed to clamber out. It’s only when he laughs that she has enough presence of mind to remember that she’s butt naked, and she snatches the blanket clean off the bed as she picks up her clothes off the floor. Despite being just as naked and exposed without the blanket, Rokurou simply leans back and tries not to laugh too hard.

Tries, at least.

“Rokurou! Why didn’t you wake me up sooner, you knew I had things to do in the morning!”

“Your sleeping face was too cute to wake up?” he suggests with a shrug, but she cuts off his laugh when she throws one of her gloves right at his face. It falls away easily, and he picks himself back up easily, saying, “Seriously though, when was the last time you got some decent sleep? You’re gonna run yourself ragged at this rate.”

She stops halfway through putting her jacket on, her gaze softening as her lips curve into a smile. With her clothes back on, she walks back to him, cups his face and presses her lips against his forehead in a chaste peck. When she pulls back, her brows are pulled together again, but her smile remains firmly in place.

“I appreciate the concern, but next time, I’d like it you thought about the fact that I was supposed to be meeting with supply traders around ten,” she says with a half-hearted sigh, picking her glove back up and slipping it on.

“No promises.” When she rolls her eyes, he can’t help but laugh and duck in quickly for one last peck. “But alright, alright, get going, oh Shepherd. I’ll see you when I see you.”

“You’re not getting up yet? It’s already past noon!”

He shrugs, already settling back into the pillows. Eleanor shakes her head, but she doesn’t leave before tossing the blanket back over him. Before he can even say anything, she’s already halfway out the door, ready for her day and raring to go.

“Bye, Rokurou, I’ll see you later!”

Lazily, he waves his hand goodbye, but it flops back to the bed as he feels the pull of a nap. With his nose pressed to the sheets, they still smell faintly of her, and he’s content to rest here for just a little longer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BET YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS AN ABANDONED WIP, HUH!!! except tbh, i can't blame you in the least. HOWEVER, i can promise that as of posting this, this fic is actually technically halfway done! mfw i finished another chapter before this, but i..... can't post it yet........ since it's the second to last one. smh at myself, as per usual. god it's been a million years since i've seen berseria too, honestly why do i do this to myself.
> 
> ALL THAT SAID THOUGH, i sincerely hope you enjoy this next installment!

“Stay with me, Rokurou! Open your eyes, you’re not falling asleep, not here!”

It’s warm. He can tell it’s raining, feels drenched to the bone as he lies on the ground facing the sky, but it’s warm. When he opens his eyes, he can barely see past the red to Eleanor’s bright green eyes, her brow furrowed as always as she shouts at him. At least, he thinks she’s shouting. He can barely hear her for some reason, and he tries to open his mouth and tell her to speak louder, but no words come out. Just a lot of hot, wet something.

Oh. That’s why it’s so warm. It’s not the weather, and it’s not Eleanor pressing her hands against his side as hard as she can while her breath fans over him, face so close he could just almost kiss her. No, it’s because he’s lying in a pool of his own blood.

That daemon put up a good fight, he thinks distantly. Its corpse lies not even five feet away from them, unmoving and just as bloody as him, if not more so. He didn’t expect it to try and hide away from him in the middle of a town, didn’t expect Eleanor to be here in the middle of nowhere delivering supplies. But in hindsight, he probably should’ve. What else would she be doing, honestly? His pool of blood seeps into her dress as she tries to hold him together long enough for a doctor to arrive, and with how hard she’s pressing into him, he wouldn’t be surprised if she looked even bloodier than he did.

The townspeople might not be able to see it in him, but he knows there’s something a little ironic in a Shepherd saving a daemon. There are better ways for her to spend her time.

“Eleanor,” he croaks, tries not to choke when her head shoots up to look at him. “It’s fine. You can stop.”

She narrows her eyes, and her hands press so hard into him it actually hurts. “Don’t be stupid! And be quiet, you need to conserve your strength! We need to wait for a doctor, I need to stop the bleeding, and—”

“ _Eleanor_.”

He blinks again, keeps blinking until he can see past the rain, until he can tell she’s just as drenched as he is. But all the rain in the world couldn’t hide the tears in her eyes, the faint sheen as she sucks in a ragged breath to steady herself, and he hates it. He raises a trembling hand, tries to wipe them away before they can fall. She might’ve always been a crybaby, but as much as he knew this day was a longtime coming, he never wanted her to be part of it.

How can he die satisfied smiling, slain by a worthy opponent, if the last thing he sees is her tears?

“I knew this day was coming. Just sooner than I’d thought,” he says, tries to laugh, but his smile can’t last when only more blood comes out. “It’s fine.”

For just a moment, her hands slacken, her mouth hanging open as she stares at him wide-eyed. He can see the whites of her eyes too easily, hears how she doesn’t even breathe all too clearly. And then she pries her hands back into his side, nearly stitching him together through sheer will alone when she all but growls out, “Don’t you _dare_ die on me! This isn’t that day, not yet, not by a long shot!”

She can’t stop the tears as she shouts at him, but like this—teeth bared, eyes alive, voice strong and steady despite it all. It’s not a bad sight, for the last thing he’ll ever see.

He smiles.

“Later, Eleanor. See you… when I see you…”

It’s so warm. Even with the rain, even with her tears, it’s warm and she’s here and this is enough.

His hand slips from her face.

“No… No, Rokurou! Rokurou! Wake up, please, you have to wake up!!”

It’s sooner than he expected, but he’ll see her again. That’s enough.

It has to be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO DISSATISFIED WITH THIS BUT I CAN'T EVEN REALLY PINPOINT WHY TBH. oh well, at least it's done...... i can move on.............. to the next part SCREAMS. except when the next chapter comes up expect to see this WHOLE THING done because literally, i have the whole thing done, just these middle parts are standing in my way!! it's so frustrating!!!! BUT ANYWAYS, HERE'S HOPING YOU ENJOY THIS.

“Rokurou, are you even listening?”

“Aif go’a mouth fulla bean paste,” he mumbles around his spoon, but under Eleanor’s withering stare, he at least swallows before he continues. “What did you expect?”

It’s a bright, sunny spring day in town. There might not be any cherry blossoms here in Stonebury, but flowers bloom proudly no matter where you turn to look. Were he out and about wandering as per usual, he’s not sure he’d take the time to appreciate the changing of seasons like this. With a bowl of yozakura anmitsu in hand and Eleanor in front of him, he can’t find it in him to complain.

Really, he almost appreciates the daemon attack that left him nearly dead on Eleanor’s doorstep.

He’s not sure either of them ever really intended for it to go like this, but it’s become something of a tradition. The first time it happened, he woke up after a three day coma only to find Eleanor red-eyed and brow furrowed at his bedside, her hands clenched in her lap. When he finally stirred awake, she didn’t even blink, just balled her hands even tighter and bit out:

_You haven’t even taken me out for yozakura anmitsu yet._

After that, it seemed as good a time as any to go out for some, barely-patched wounds be damned.

The next time after that, it didn’t matter that he’d already fulfilled his promise. When he opened his eyes and saw her waiting for him again, the first thing words out of his mouth were if she wanted to get yozakura anmitsu again. It seemed like the least he could do for her.

And now, after years and years of somehow, some way coincidentally running into her when he’s suffered a near fatal wound from his latest fight, this has become their tradition. She patches him up. He takes her out for yozakura anmitsu afterwards.

It’s not as if he sets out to find her after being wounded. More often than not, he takes a deadly blow from his foe before narrowly ending the fight with his sword through their heart, having nothing but gels and his own tenacity to keep him standing. Really, he doesn’t even usually _know_ where she is—even now, Eleanor spends most of her time traveling between towns to aid them. The Shepherd’s work is never done, even if she’s come to dislike the title more and more as time’s gone by.

But even if he doesn’t know himself, with how often it’s happened, he’s starting to think his feet simply know where to find her. Or if not that, Eleanor’s know where to find him instead. He’s collapsed on the ground only to wake up in a bed with her at his side more times than he ever expected.

“I said you really ought to take better care of yourself. At least don’t go throwing yourself into fights without a single gel on hand!”

“You know finding someone strong enough to kill me is kind of the point, right?”

“Well, yes, but…” she trails off with a sigh, scooping up another spoonful. He knows it’s not something she’s ever really understood—or wants to understand—even if she respects it, and he expects that to be the end of it. As she swallows her bite though, she continues, “But if the point is to find someone strong enough to kill you, that means they have to be strong enough to kill you even at your best, right? And your best means using every resource available to you—your skills, your weapons, and an adequate amount of items, too. You’re not pushing yourself to the limit if you’re not doing everything you can to win either.”

“… So you’re saying a worthy opponent should be good enough to make me use up everything I have on me.” He folds his arms as he mulls it over, but now that he thinks about it, well. There’s no denying her reasoning, even if it’s for an unreasonable goal. He grins, shaking his head. “It’s not the most frugal of plans though, is it?”

“You’re the one who said it.”

He laughs around the spoon in his mouth, and her responding smile makes his dessert even sweeter. “You’ve got a point, I’ll admit it. I shouldn’t be stocking up to survive, but to make the battle last for as long as possible.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant either…” But she shakes her head. After all this time, they both know there’s no changing his mind when it comes to fighting. He’s going to die on the battlefield or not at all. “But that’s taking _better_ care of yourself at least.”

“Exactly! With that in mind though, I think it’s time to get going.” He stands up, setting his spoon in his empty bowl and taking out enough gald to cover for the both of them.

“Already? You’ve hardly even rested!”

“I’ve rested plenty! Besides, I need to get started on stocking up. Those gels aren’t gonna buy themselves.”

Eleanor pushes away her empty bowl with a sigh, but she shakes her head with a smile anyways. “For a guy who’s got all the time in the world, you sure rushed this date. Oh well, I have business I need to take care of today anyways.”

“And for a woman who’s getting on in their years, you still don’t know how to take things easy.” He brushes her bangs back gently, noting the worry lines. “Y’know, I bet these wrinkles’re from stress and not age.”

“Oh, be quiet. Not everyone’s lucky enough to look eternally youthful,” she says with a roll of her eyes, batting his hand away. Before he can take it back though, she grabs his hand and gives it a firm squeeze. “Take care, Rokurou. I’ll see you later. And hopefully not dead on my doorstep again.”

He laughs, brushing back her bangs again with his free hand behind her ear. Just because he can. “Same to you. I’ll see you when I see you.”

She squeezes his hand one more time, and then she lets go, walking away into the crowd to do whatever it is Shepherds do. Rokurou heads the opposite way towards the town exit, eyes forward and a smile on his face.

He wouldn’t say he’s planning on it, but he’s sure they’ll have another yozakura anmitsu date lined up soon enough.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took three friggin' rewrites to get to where it is, but at least this time i'm pretty satisfied with it. and with that, said, THE WHOLE THING IS NOW DONE THANK GOD!!!! GET READY TO SEE THE REST

“Aw, c’mon Eleanor, don’t be mad.”

“Don’t you tell me not to be mad! Not while I’m standing here _drowning_ in flour!”

He wants to say that she can’t be drowning in flour when it’s a dry powder, but one look from her has him choke back his words to give a sheepish grin instead. While she’s far from drowning, Eleanor’s entire head is about as white as her old Abbey uniform now. It’s even whiter than her actual white hairs. The now empty bucket rolls into the wall with a clang, but there’s so much flour in the air he has to wave a hand around him just to breathe.

“You gotta hand it to ‘em though, they really got you good.” Hell, he hasn’t been able to sneak past Eleanor’s guard himself in _years_ , during spars and outside of them alike.

At that though, he hears a sudden clatter past the nearby window, as does Eleanor. There’s no one there when they turn to look, but he does hear a few shouts of “Hurry!” and “Oh no, Miss Eleanor caught us!” before what sounds like a group of kids running as fast as they can.

“They wouldn’t have gotten me at all if you just warned me beforehand,” she grumbles, but as she starts dusting herself off, he knows that most of her anger’s melted away already. He thinks she has more patience for the kids she helps look after than the people clamoring at her to name a successor.

“Now that wouldn’t have been any fun,” he says with a laugh, and when Eleanor works up her glare all over again, he only laughs harder and moves to help dust the flour off of her. “Besides, they already had most of it set up by the time I got up.”

Actually, Rokurou only woke up because of them. The unexpected presence roused him from sleep quickly, but it was easy to tell that they weren’t a threat. They all stopped dead in their tracks when he got up to investigate, one of them balanced on another’s shoulders to perch the full bucket of flour precariously on top of the front door. Rokurou’s always had a softspot for indulging kids though, and now was no different, so he simply smiled and held his finger to his lips.

The rest, as they say, was history.

“And just who’s this supposed to be fun for, huh? You’re not the one who has to clean this up!”

“I’ll help you clean up, don’t worry.” He licks his thumb to wipe off a particularly thick patch of flour on her cheek. “But come on, you can’t say it wasn’t funny that they managed to surprise you! Or that it won’t be fun when you get them back with a prank of your own.”

Because now that Eleanor’s semi-retired from traveling between towns and spends most of her time looking after the local kids (thankfully, he thinks privately with relief. It’s not that he thinks she isn’t capable, because he knows she is, but he also knows that her body isn’t the same as his after all these years. He worries.), he’s heard tale of the games she and the kids get up to. Eleanor can be strict, sure, but her penchant for tricking them into taking their medicine and eating their vegetables has led to a sort of childish prank war. While it surprises some of the townspeople to see the venerable Shepherd acting so silly, it doesn’t surprise him in the least.

No matter how much time passes, some things never change.

Eleanor gives him a sly smile. “Oh, trust me, those kids haven’t seen _anything_ yet. But that’s why I’ll need you out for a while. I can’t have you distracting me while I plot my revenge, and I’m still mad you didn’t warn me about the flour.”

“Don’t you think you’re too old to hold a grudge over a prank? And I didn’t even do it!”

She folds her arms and gives an exaggerated _hmph!_ , but when he slings his arm around her shoulder and presses a kiss to her temple, he sees her bite her lip to hold back a smile.

“C’mon, you know I love you.”

“I know,” she says, squeezing his hand around her before lifting it off and looking him straight in the eyes. “But that has nothing to do with this, and I’m still telling you to get out for a bit. Help me clean up when you get back, alright?”

He sighs and shakes his head, but even a war daemon knows when he’s beat. “Alright, alright, I’ll get out of your hair. When I get back though, you better have one hell of a revenge prank to tell me about.”

Eleanor laughs, bright and carefree. She presses a kiss to his cheek before she shoos him out the door, all but pushing him through it. “Now get going! I’ll see you in a bit.”

Even after getting kicked out of her house, Rokurou can’t wipe the smile off his face. He turns around, grin easy and warm.

“Love you.”

She smiles back softly, just as easily.

“Love you, too. See you soon.”


	5. Chapter 5

“So, what’s next?”

Rokurou looks over to Eleanor, and despite her question for him, her eyes remain steadfast on the drink in her hands. The four of them made their way together back to Loegres and into Tabatha’s tavern, but as Eizen spoke of needing to get back to the crew soon, it was clear he didn’t expect any of them to be coming back with him.

Which is fine with him, naturally. This might be the beginning of a new world, but it’s also the end of a journey.

He shrugs easily. “I’ll go around somewhere, find my next opponent, and kill them where they stand.”

“The same as always, then. Honestly, I can’t believe that’s all you’re living for,” Eleanor says with a sigh, but with how she shakes her head, you’d think she was reprimanding him for never cleaning up his room rather than choosing to do nothing with his life aside from fight.

So he grins and lets out a laugh. “Come on, what did you expect! You’re not telling me you didn’t already know that.”

Eleanor doesn’t even respond, shrugging just as easily as he did. He can hear Eizen and Magilou not too far away from them, but it’s not hard to guess what they’ll be up to now either. Eizen’ll probably be sailing on the Van Eltia for as long as he’s sane, and Magilou—wandering around wherever she pleases, doing whatever the hell she wants.

Which is really what all of them are doing anyways, but.

“How about you?”

She lifts an eyebrow, smiling. “Do you even have to ask?”

“Probably not. If I had to guess…” He leans back in his seat, arms folded in mock deep thought. “Going around towns, getting people back on their feet even without the Abbey, and generally looking the part of the helpful exorcist more than ever.”

“You know me so well, don’t you?”

“Only as well as you know me.” But if he’s being honest—Eleanor knows more about him than he ever expected anyone to know. Not back when he was human, and certainly not now as a daemon. And sure, he’s not really the type to keep a secret in the first place, but he thinks it’s nice that she knows. He _likes_ that she knows who she is.

“Oh, I’m sure we have a few mysteries left for the other to find out,” she says easily, the future an infinite tangle of possibilities now. “Just not what we’re doing next. Although I resent being called a ‘helpful exorcist’! That’s not why I want to help people.”

He laughs and raises his hands. “I’m kidding, jeez! But seriously, how long are you gonna keep the uniform? You might not call yourself an exorcist, but there’s no way anyone can look at you and think otherwise.”

“Well… It _does_ make it easier for people to trust me…” Eleanor says from behind her glass, cheeks flushing and gaze carefully aimed sideways.

“Deceiving people into thinking you’re something you’re not just to get their trust?” He clucks his tongue at her. “How terribly devious of you!”

And Eleanor Hume, ex-exorcist and former renegade rebel turned fledgling savior as she’s tasked with spreading the word of Maotelus, sticks her tongue at him so childishly he almost thinks he’s talking to Kamoana.

Rokurou can only laugh harder at that, and Eleanor keeps the face for maybe three more seconds before breaking into peals of laughter herself. It’s easy, talking together and laughing together, like they hadn’t just changed the world irrevocably a few scant hours ago. She knows who he is, and he knows her, and he’s not sure he’s ever been more comfortable.

So he finishes his drink off and sets the glass down on the table with a thud.

“I think I’ll take my leave here.”

She blinks. “Already, are you sure?”

“Might as well. I’m not gonna find my next opponent sitting here.” He stands up, stretching casually as he prepares to take on the world alone. When he looks back at Eleanor though, he tries not to laugh at how furrowed her brow is. He hopes after they all split up she finds someone else to tell her to relax every now and then; she’ll have a permanent knot there at this rate. “Jeez, you don’t need to make that face. We’ll see each other again, I’m sure.”

“And just when is that going to be?”

“When we see each other.”

“You’re really planning ahead, aren’t you?” Eleanor sighs and shakes her head, but she looks back at him with a fond smile anyways and he knows she knows. Things aren’t done with them, not with any of them yet, not by a long shot. There’s a whole new world and an untold future right ahead of them. Nothing’s set in stone, but Rokurou knows at least two things.

He’s going to kill some people, for one—human or daemon, good or bad, it doesn’t matter as long as they’re strong. That’s a given though.

Second—he’s going to see her again. He’ll make sure of that himself.

“Take care of yourself, Eleanor. I’ll see you when I see you.”

Rokurou leaves, eyes facing forward and doesn’t turn to look back once. It’s easy not to.

After all, she’ll be somewhere along his path soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this really should've been the first chapter, but i didn't have an idea in mind for it until after i wrote the actual first chapter LMFAO. framing this fic to work around this being the second-to-last chapter has been one of the biggest struggles about it.


	6. Chapter 6

The green hills and scattered wildflowers of this place don’t suit a bloodthirsty daemon like Rokurou, but that’s not something he can help. He rarely walks with a destination in mind, simply wandering from one opponent to the next. Today’s a little different. Not because it’s an important date, or because he has plans, or anything like that—whimsical as ever, his feet carry him here simply because he feels like it.

Although he might be a wanderer, when he finds what he’s been looking for, he wastes no time in heading straight there.

“Hey, Eleanor. How’ve you been?”

Of course, a tombstone can’t reply. Rokurou smiles anyways and dusts off the cracked and weathered stone.

At one point, he remembers her name being etched onto it, but time has a funny way of wearing things down. No one remembers Eleanor Hume, Abbey traitor turned Second Shepherd—only the legend of Shepherd after Shepherd. No one remembers Velvet Crowe the Lord of Calamity either—just one force of evil after another, with no names of their own and only a title to call them by. He’s seen continents shift and technologies be lost, watched as every person in sight ran away from him in fear and then look at him and only see a man. Times have come and gone so frequently, so easily, that he’s sure if not for how secluded and isolated Eleanor’s grave is, someone would’ve desecrated and knocked it down a long time ago. Frankly, he’s surprised even the stone still stands.

All that time, and he still hasn’t found them. The foe to finally slay him where he stands, the one who’ll make him put his life on the line one last time. It’s not that he minds, really, that it’s taken all this time. He’s fought enemy after enemy, some amazing and some pathetic, but he doesn’t mind any of that. It’s what he lives for, and the prospect of a future lined with more to face—it excites him just as much as it always has.

But, well. There’s a reason he comes here to talk to a headstone from time to time.

“I know it’s been a while,” he says as he takes a seat, cross-legged and with his swords across his lap, “but I’ve been busy. Well, I’m sure you already knew that.”

Again, no response. Still, it’s all too easy to imagine Eleanor—brow furrowed, palm against her forehead, a sigh on her lips as she bit back a reprimand that she knew would be useless to say anyways. Whether it was when she still kept her hair up in girlish pigtails or much later when laugh lines framed her lips, for all the ways the world changed, she never did. Not in the ways that mattered.

How long ago was that though, the last time he saw her furrowed brow? He’s not sure he can remember anymore.

It’s not that he regrets being a daemon. The moment he slew Shigure by his own hand, regrets ceased to exist for him. Daemon or not, wrong or not, he lives every day with pride, fights with everything he has every single time. It’s the life he chose, the life he continues to choose, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He raises his hand to the tombstone again though, brushes against where he remembers her name once being. The cold isn’t surprising, yet disappointment fills him all the same.

“I miss you.”

One day, somehow and some way, they’ll meet again. He believes it with all his heart, sinful as it might be. As much as he looks forward to finding his perfect opponent, he looks forward to that day just as much, whenever it is.

For right now though, Rokurou simply closes his eyes and lies down among the flowers, listens to the quiet and calm of the world.

It reminds him a little of Eleanor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND WITH THAT, I FINALLY FINISH A BIRTHDAY GIFT FIC THAT SHOULD'VE BEEN DONE LITERALLY A YEAR AGO!!!!! WHY AM I THE ABSOLUTE WORST. so to mist: i'm sorry it took so long to get your birthday fic done ;___; i hope this was worth the wait somehow.
> 
> but also: idk how i keep writing bday fic for you that's moody and sad LMFAO. SO TO MAKE IT UP--to everyone reading, stay tuned for a bonus chapter because i've gone through what feels like 8 different versions of this fic in general and one of them included a happier "1 time rokurou says hello." or in other words, this fic is complete but i'm just extra and don't want to make an upcoming drabble a separate entry when it belongs in here just in a different version.


End file.
